


Cut Curls Craze

by HyphenL



Series: Open For Business (Fills) [5]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, Will Graham’s remaining Curl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 09:06:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1463620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyphenL/pseuds/HyphenL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt by kazz</p><p>Hey, how about writing a fanfic for appreciation of Will Graham's new hair cut (and style)? He looks gorgeous there. I'd love to know every character's reaction / comments on it. And, as addition, I'd love to see how the new therapy session going on between Will and Hannibal. You can make it cute, sexy, or crack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cut Curls Craze

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kazz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kazz/gifts).



“Will's back” Jack told his wife as she was smoking medicinal opium near him on the bed. “On the field.”

“I read the papers” Bella reminds him. She turns her tired head towards him. “You should be careful now, Jack. He's not the same man that was sent to jail. He's changed.”

“I know” Jack grumbles in astonishment. “He cut his hair”.

 

Bedelia du Maurier opens her mailbox and finds yet another letter from Hannibal Lecter, who somehow managed to reach her even in her Australian hideout. She hesitates about opening the envelope, but an usual weight and rigidity to it makes her change her mind.

It's a picture of Will Graham with short hair, which back is scribbled in enthusiastic non-sense.

Bedelia sighs but keeps the photo.

Will's kinda charming on it.

 

“Oh. Dear. _Lord_ ” Price utters when he sees Will for the first time after his release. “Mister Will Graham, when did you learn the existence of the comb?”

Zeller makes a face, mimicking tragic despair. “The curls! The curls, all the luscious curls! Where are they gone now? Oh, _my heart_. This is too much, I might die.”

“No, yeah, too much” Price tells him. “You have to learn when to conclude a joke, Zeller.”

Zeller pouts.

 

Freddie Lounds is waiting near a crime scene where she heard Graham was working. She's taking pictures and notes, looking around for the bushy hair with a look of irritation on her face. Was her informant wrong? She shrugs as a somewhat familiar young man passes by her, surrounded by a flock of agents. Jack Crawford is close by.

Freddie searches the crow of faces before her, hoping to take a picture from Graham for her next article.

He never walks by.

 

Soft, regular beeps keep Chilton awake in a sort of whitened haze. He might be lying on a bed, or in a field of cotton. Two blurred shapes seem to be floating nearby.

“So, that's Chilton, uh” says the smaller one, looking at him as if he was a curious kind of lizard. “He's got both ears. Kinda tiny.”

“What's going on?” Chilton mutters, trying to remember how he came... wherever the hell he is.

“You may be dying” the other, bigger shape answers. “And we were bored, so we came to visit. So, you pissed out Hannibal Lecter, uh?”

“Who are you?” Chilton asked, trying to make up their features.

“I'm in-between like you” the tiny shape answers. “Maybe dead or maybe having an out of body experience due to intense hypnosis sessions. The difference is that daddy Lecter kinda liked me.”

“Hey, he liked me too” the other shape points out. “And I'm _actually_ sure I'm dead.”

Chilton shakes his head. “Uh, hum. What's happening?”

The small girl ghost pouts. “Not much.”

“Will Graham cut his hair” the other replies casually.

Chilton sighs in relief.

Yeah. He's dreaming.

 

Dr Lecter opens the door to his office and sees a brand new Will Graham turn around to look at him. Neat clothes –as neat as Graham can manage– and brushed hair that curl once on his forehead.

No aftershave.

Is Will Graham trying to seduce him? Hannibal internally smiles. A tad too obviously, perhaps.

The upcoming game looks promising.

 

A couple of minutes into their appointment, the Chesapeake Ripper dozes off, so focused on Will Graham's only curl that he actually stops speaking mid sentence, his eyes glued on it like a fly on a spiderweb.

Will Graham smirks.

 

**Author's Note:**

> > Send Prompt: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1451776/chapters/3056608


End file.
